


chaotic vibrations

by orphan_account



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Blow Jobs in a Car, M/M, Recreational Drug Use, Road Trips, Roommates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-12
Updated: 2017-04-12
Packaged: 2018-10-18 00:46:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10605792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: How to not study for an exam: fuck it and drive. Then fuck up and get caught.(In which the collective and cumulative stress of finals week got to them.)





	

**Author's Note:**

> notes about the tags: yes, they smoke weed and drive.
> 
> uhm. I had what was probably one of the worst academic weeks I've had in a while and it isn't even finals yet. I made it out unscathed but these guys didn't, I'm sorry. this is to account for all the times I wanted to just fuck it and run away from my responsibilities. I don't encourage anything done in this fic.
> 
> credits to AO3 user killyourdarlings for the idea, for beta-ing, for holding my hand, and for letting me be myself. bestest friend of life. I love you. ♡
> 
> title taken from a math textbook of the same name. study hard, kids. ✨

_7:14 pm_

Jaehyun has had enough.

He walks into the bathroom where Doyoung's fingers are curled into the edge of the sink as he dry-heaves into it. He's gentle when he grabs Doyoung by the back of his shirt and brings him back to the living room, where Taeyong is seated cross-legged on the floor and surrounded by so, so many books, open notebooks, highlighters.

But Taeyong is just staring at the way the curtain moves over the window. Trucks are blaring outside.

“Doyoung,” Jaehyun says, and he rattles Doyoung’s shoulders as he does, “you need a break.”

“I don’t need a break,” Doyoung insists. “I need to _die_.”

“You need a fucking break. Or a fucking coma.”

“But I don’t understand how the statement of cash flows works yet,” Doyoung wails.

“Shut up,” Taeyong eventually pipes up, his eyes screwing shut from the noise. Yes, the trucks are blaring outside, but Doyoung's voice is _shrill_ and pierced something in him that's been asleep for the past four days. “I’m gonna fucking cry if you don’t shut up. Don’t test me—I’ll _cry_.”

Jaehyun sighs. “You _both_ need a break.”

“You have one tomorrow, too, right?” Doyoung asks.

“I gave up,” Jaehyun says simply. “I can’t think anymore.” He glances at Taeyong, who’s back to staring at the curtain but this time with a pout, then at Doyoung, who’s mumbling equations to himself (“Straight line depreciation is as follows: selling price minus salvage value all over useful life—”), and barrels past both of them to get to the door of their tiny flat and dig through Taeyong’s jacket for his car keys.

The noise jolts Taeyong out of his trance, making him fly to Jaehyun to wrestle him. Unfortunately, Jaehyun so easily pushes him away.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Taeyong demands.

“Let’s go out,” Jaehyun suggests.

“ _Where?_ ”

“Anywhere. Come on. I’ll buy Doyoung a drink.”

“And me?”

“You’re driving, dumbass. I’ll buy you a diet Coke.” Jaehyun rolls his eyes and walks back to the living room to get his wallet and Doyoung, holding him by the wrist. Once Jaehyun lets go, Doyoung stuffs his hands into his hoodie and his feet into his red Converses.

“There are bars near here,” Taeyong protests.

“Not about the goddamn motherfucking destination, buddy,” Jaehyun says in a tense singsong. “It’s about the goddamn motherfucking journey. Right, Doyoungie?”

“I’m going to _fail_ ,” Doyoung says quietly with his head ducked down. “You guys go ahead.”

“No, no, no,” Jaehyun protests, “we’re gonna fucking fail _together_ ”—Taeyong snorts at that—“Don’t fucking—We’re going to fail together just like how we’ve all been working our asses together all semester, got it?” He sounds manic, and Taeyong thinks if he says anything more, Jaehyun will snap, like the speeding car in his head will finally crash. “What’s one exam?”

Taeyong knows that out of the three of them, Doyoung will suffer the least repercussions and Jaehyun the most. Yet Doyoung is paralysed into perpetually being on the verge of tears while Jaehyun is running around their shared apartment trying to cause a wreckage.

Jaehyun wraps an arm around Doyoung and shakes him again. “ _Right_ , Doyoung?”

“I shouldn’t go.”

“I’m not going if Doyoung won’t,” Taeyong says as he crosses his arms. “That’s final.”

“I’ll knock you out,” Jaehyun says to Doyoung. Doyoung finally looks up at Taeyong with a trembling bottom lip, but he nods, and that’s all it takes for Taeyong to sigh and open the door.

 

 

_7:49 pm_

“Hey, I’m sorry I said I’ll knock you out, Doyoungie,” Jaehyun apologises once they’re all settled in Taeyong’s car—Doyoung’s lying down in the back, staring blankly at the ceiling, Jaehyun is in shotgun, lighting up a blunt, and Taeyong is in the driver’s seat, checking the drawers for spare cash he must have left in there.

“You didn’t mean it,” Doyoung says weakly.

Taeyong knows it’s true, somehow, as he starts up the car and brings them out of the parking lot. Jaehyun can, but Jaehyun won’t, and he’s caressed both Doyoung’s and Taeyong’s faces more than anything else.

Doyoung takes the blunt Jaehyun gives him and takes a long drag with shaking fingers.

“Do you feel better?”

Doyoung sits up and stares hard at Jaehyun. “I’m going to fail.”

“Would you rather be tired and doomed to fail? Or really fucking high and still doomed to fail?” Jaehyun asks.

Before Doyoung could answer, Taeyong cuts in, “Where are we going?”

“Let’s go as far as we can without paying toll,” Jaehyun suggests after he takes a hit. He blows the smoke at Taeyong’s face, grinning at Taeyong’s scowl. “Want some?”

“So I can’t drink but I can have weed?”

“Just a little bit,” Jaehyun teases as he dangles the blunt in front of Taeyong. “Take the edge off.”

Taeyong reaches for the blunt and puts it between his lips.

“I’m going to fail _and_ die,” Doyoung whines. “I’m going to _fail life_.”

“My driving is not that bad,” Taeyong insists.

Jaehyun shushes him. “Doyoung just needs more, that’s all,” he says. He passes the blunt back to Doyoung and patiently waits for Doyoung to hand it back to him. “We should stop by a drive-thru.”

“Why?” Taeyong asks.

“We gotta air the car out somehow. Roll the window down and, like, ask for a cheeseburger.”

“With no cheese,” Doyoung butts in and starts to laugh. Well. This is going to be a really long evening.

 

 

_8:26_ _pm_

This McDonald’s is what Jaehyun describes as “[The Second Bakery Attack](http://web.mit.edu/norvin/www/somethingelse/murakami.html)”-esque. Disappointingly un-neon and nearly empty. There is no drive-thru, so Taeyong and Jaehyun leave Doyoung in the car with the windows down and head inside, feeling like they’re on a mission. Doyoung wants thirty Big Macs, no cheese, and Jaehyun only has so much money in his wallet. Taeyong’s pity look is the best, then, for these kinds of situations.

“Hi, what can I get you today?” asks the cashier.

“I want fifty nuggets,” Taeyong says right away. “But I want the Kiddie Meal toys.”

“Sir, the Kiddie Meals only come in four pieces a pack.”

“Huh?”

“We can give you either forty-eight or fifty-two.”

Taeyong is stunned into silence. He knows four times ten is forty, but forty-eight? How many servings is that? “How many toys do I get if I get forty-eight nuggets?” he asks.

“Twelve, sir.”

“For Christ’s sake,” Jaehyun swears. “How many Big Macs can I get with twenty dollars?”

“Three, after taxes.”

“That should be enough for all of us, right?” Jaehyun asks Taeyong. “Or do you really want your Happy Meal?”

“Will it make me any happier?” Taeyong asks.

“It can try.”

“What theme are the toys anyway?”

“ _Angry Birds_.”

“ _You’re_ an angry bird,” Taeyong grumbles.

Jaehyun whistles. “Wow, way to take your anger out on me, asshole.”

“If I don’t stay mad at you, I’ll fucking cry,” Taeyong warns, and he does sound choked up—painfully so, to the point that he winces upon hearing the sound of his own voice as it breaks through the waterlogged sound system that is his head in this moment. “I’m too tired to cause a scene in a fucking McDonald’s.”

At that, Jaehyun only laughs. “Come on, cry already,” he goads. “It’ll make me feel less empty inside, do it.”

Taeyong does tear up, so he punches Jaehyun on the shoulder. “Is that what you fucking want? The goddamn _Chainsmokers_ is playing. This could fucking scar me for life.”

“Do it.” Jaehyun turns his head back to the cashier and says, “We’ll get two Big Macs and a McNugget Happy Meal to go, please.” When the cashier goes to get their order, Jaehyun turns back around to catch Taeyong wiping his face with his palms. “I got you a Happy Meal.”

“Thanks. Happy now?”

“I feel like shit, to be honest,” Jaehyun admits with a shrug. “But it’s better with friends, isn’t it?”

“I keep thinking that once I get enough sleep I’ll have the sense to kick you out,” Taeyong sighs as he closes his eyes so he could rub at his temples, “but sleep feels so far away right now.” He opens his eyes slowly and gets used to the overwhelming whiteness.

“Aww, aren’t you glad you have me?” Jaehyun asks in a light tone, but Taeyong realises right away he’s slightly hurt, and it makes Taeyong soften. Maybe he went too far with Jaehyun. Telling him he’s broken is one thing, but kicking him out of the one place he can be broken in is definitely another.

“There’s no one like you, Jaehyunie,” Taeyong says with a wry smile that Jaehyun smiles at, too, but warily so. The cashier comes back with their order, so they pay then go.

When they get back to the car, Doyoung is indeed crying; he’s lying on his back in the back seat with his palms over his face to muffle his voice, his body racking with sobs.

Both Taeyong and Jaehyun stand frozen by the door before springing into collective action, Taeyong entering from one side of the car and Jaehyun from the other, placing the bag of fast food on the shotgun seat.

“Doyoung,” Taeyong says softly, “you’re panicking.”

“ _No shit_ ,” Jaehyun nearly shouts. “What if he goes into a seizure?”

“Will you fucking shut up?” Taeyong nearly shouts right back. “I’m the pre-med student here, you pretentious ass writer!”

“Is that what passes for insults at the biology department?” Jaehyun demands. “You fucking nerds _need_ a literature class!”

“ _My point is_ , Doyoung’s not going to go into a fucking seizure. He needs air. Help me get him up,” Taeyong instructs, though his hands are shaking, too, when he tries to take Doyoung’s hands away from his face. “Doyoungie, can you see me? You need to breathe.” Jaehyun begins to rub circles on Doyoung’s back while Taeyong is still trying to coax Doyoung into showing his face. “Doyoung, please.”

“Take me home,” Doyoung pleads. “I can’t fail this class, I can’t. If I have to stay here for another fucking semester I’m going to kill myself.”

“Come on, Doyoungie, you’re the smartest one here,” Jaehyun says in a low voice, almost pleading himself. “You’re not going to fail.”

Taeyong, who had been slacking off all semester until he couldn’t keep up anymore, tries to not let it show how much it bothers him seeing Doyoung break down after all those times Doyoung quietly did all-nighters because there was nothing left for Doyoung to do but make sure he knew everything he needed to know. Doyoung’s shallow breathing gets hitched in places and choked up and he starts to sob all over again.

“ _Do_ something,” Jaehyun whispers to Taeyong harshly.

“I don’t know,” Taeyong whispers back. Then, in a slightly louder voice, adds, “Doyoung, you’re an A standing in that class, right? If you miss the final, you’ll still be at least a B.”

“I’m not sure this is comforting,” Jaehyun says hesitantly. The hand he has rubbing circles on Doyoung’s back has now gone up to the back of Doyoung’s neck, trying to press out the knots. “Doyoungie, I failed two classes already, and I’m not behind. I got an internship at Reuters, too.”

“I got a D standing in calculus, and I got to turn it around to a C-plus in the end,” Taeyong offers. “It’s not the same as starting out an A, you know? But… we’re only suffering now, and you’ve been set since the beginning. You’re great, okay? You’re gonna bounce back.” He tries again to bring Doyoung’s hands down from his face (he needs to fucking _breathe_ , Taeyong keeps telling himself, he needs to breathe and to not be so hard on himself and to be okay with the inevitability of failure at one point in his life), and is surprised when Doyoung lets himself be handled so easily now.

Doyoung’s face is red and swollen, streaked with tears, mouth shiny as he opens it to take a breath.

“That’s it,” Taeyong murmurs. “Slower.” He’s holding Doyoung’s hands in his, trying to warm them up from their frozen clammy state, so he brings them to his lips and blows warm air gently into them. It takes a few more minutes until Doyoung’s breathing has settled down into a proper rhythm. Breathe in, breathe out.

A couple of tears still come out of Doyoung’s eyes when he sighs and leans back, closing his eyes. “God, I’m scared shitless,” he says, and it comes out in a whisper, barely audible for either Taeyong or Jaehyun.

Taeyong just squeezes his hands. Jaehyun leans in to press a kiss to Doyoung’s head.

“Come on, let’s eat,” Jaehyun suggests. “The food should be disgusting now, though.”

“Like how we feel?” Taeyong quips. Doyoung laughs, at least.

 

 

_9:32 pm_

“Thanks for remembering no cheese,” Doyoung says after he wipes his mouth.

Taeyong is extremely satisfied with his Happy Meal, from the little carton of chocolate milk to the red Angry Bird figure that he tosses between his hands. Who’s angry now? Taeyong, in all honesty, wants to smash the fucking bird, but he’s afraid it’ll hurt his hand.

Jaehyun smiles at Doyoung after lighting up another blunt. “Of course, Doyoungie. We shouldn’t add to your suffering.”

“Should we go?” Taeyong asks. Then to Doyoung: “How are you?”

Doyoung swallows. “I’ll be fine.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah. Let’s just…” Doyoung’s face screws up, as if the mere thought of it was impossible, unrealistic, unattainable. “Let’s just have fun. Right?” He lets out a weak smile that makes Jaehyun laugh and clap him on the back.

“Right!” Jaehyun passes the blunt onto Doyoung and lets Taeyong settle into the backseat with the blunt after Doyoung takes his hit. After a while, Taeyong decides he’s okay to drive and transfers to the driver’s seat, leaving Jaehyun murmuring something to Doyoung (sweet nothings? sweet somethings?) before going back to shotgun. “Let’s play music. What do you want to listen to, Doyoungie?”

“Anything,” Doyoung answers. “What does Taeyong want to listen to?”

“Me?”

“Yeah. Since you’re driving.”

“Still scared of dying?” Taeyong asks.

“I crave it, honestly,” Doyoung admits. “But not like this.”

“Got it.” Taeyong asks Jaehyun to plug the aux cord into his phone, letting the Kings of Convenience leak out of the car’s speakers.

The rest of the ride passes by in silence. There is the remnants of rush hour on the highway, slowing them down enough that even Jaehyun is slumped back in his seat, head lolling back into the headrest.

“This is nice, right?” Jaehyun sighs.

“You sound calm,” Taeyong notes.

“I am,” Jaehyun says with a grin. “Wanna know why, Taeyongie?”

“Why?”

“There’s nothing we can do about this. Fuck, that’s so fucking beautiful.” Jaehyun points at the stoplight, which had been red for three minutes and green for only forty-five seconds. “We’re not going anywhere, right? There’s no rush for us. And we can’t turn around and go back home ‘cause the U-turn’s so far away and by the time we get there, we’ll think, we should go on ahead anyway.”

Doyoung laughs from the back, loud and relieved. He laughs wild and like he’s out of tears. “We have no fucking choice,” he says. “That’s great.”

 

 

_10:57 pm_

At the end of the highway is a service road that allows cars to slip out without entering the freeway. It had taken Taeyong’s beat up box car ninety minutes to get there with all the traffic, with all the times Taeyong didn’t want to go _too_ fast because his car, just like its passengers, was ready to crumble at any time. Any faster, too, and Taeyong would feel like he’s flying, like he’s left his mortal body behind. Good for when he’s lying on the bed, zoinked out, but not like this.

“You think it’ll take us long to get home again later?” Jaehyun asks.

“Depends on traffic, I guess,” Taeyong answers.

“Don’t worry, I still have around five blunts with me.”

“What the fuck?”

“Boy scout motto.”

“I know what I want to do,” Doyoung pipes up. “Let’s get drunk.”

“That _was_ the plan,” Jaehyun says drily.

“I want to go to a karaoke,” Doyoung insists. “I want to hear how shitty you guys are at singing.”

“Is that it? Fine, let’s pull over and ask someone.”

“Dude, no, we smell like an herb garden,” Taeyong objects.

Jaehyun rolls his eyes and opens his mouth to speak, enunciating the words slowly, grating them. “And what’s wrong with that?”

“Fine, but you know better than to ask a cop for directions, right?”

“Duh. Let’s just find someone who looks like he’ll appreciate the way we smell.” As they drive through the barely lit streets, Jaehyun finds someone and points excitedly at him from his seat. “There! That guy with the gym bag.”

“You can’t be serious,” Taeyong groans. “Can’t any of us Waze it?”

“I can’t afford mobile data,” Jaehyun says sadly.

“Use my phone,” Taeyong tells him. He unlocks it for him then continues on straight until he finds a better lit street. Doyoung had shifted from his seat to lean in between the two of them and guides Jaehyun to the place.

The karaoke they find is a bar-slash-karaoke type of thing. There are rooms people can rent for private, and there is the main room where the drinks are made and the brave people go up to show off how bad they are.

In the main room, there’s an offer (“Get the best score from ten to twelve and get a round on us!” reads the flyer plastered on the door and left as laminated papers on the tables) that makes Doyoung eager to take a seat.

It suffices to say, they’re broke and have nothing else to lose. Taeyong reminds them to not order anything they can’t pay for, or try to get someone else to buy it for them.

“Got it,” Jaehyun says simply. He gets up and moves to the bar, sidling up to a woman who maybe chose to ignore the way he reeked of weed because he’s that handsome.

Taeyong and Doyoung watch him in awe. “Look at that,” Taeyong breathes. “He put his hand on her back.”

“It’s going lower,” Doyoung whispers back to Taeyong. He’s unable to hear Taeyong above the din, so he has to move his chair closer, wrap an arm around Taeyong’s shoulder. His breath tickles.

“He’s going closer. He’s whispering,” Taeyong says, right into Doyoung’s ear.

“She’s smiling. What do you think he told her?”

“Some pity story,” Taeyong says. “He’s turning twenty-one at midnight.”

“It’s his turn to buy us all a round, but he doesn’t have any money.”

“They can see each other later, if she wants to.”

At this point, Doyoung dissolved into giggles, laughing softly against Taeyong’s side. Jaehyun’s smile is bright and dazzling, and though he hasn’t had a proper shower in two days and his eyes are begging for the sweet release of sleep, he’s gorgeous, still. The woman must be charmed to hell.

When he comes back, he has three beers and a huge grin.

“What did you tell her?” Doyoung asks.

“The usual. Had no money, promised my friends drinks,” Jaehyun says with a shrug.

“Knew it,” Taeyong and Doyoung say to one another. Taeyong takes two of the bottles, passes one to Doyoung, and holds his up. “Cheers.”

It’s some really nice beer. Maybe the woman liked Jaehyun a lot more than any of them were expecting.

“She invited me back home later,” Jaehyun says.

“And?”

“What would you pick? An exam on Dostoyevsky or a one-night stand with a hot older woman?”

“Who’s probably married.”

“Fuck,” Jaehyun curses. “Fair point. Just drink.”

“I know I can beat the current guy,” Doyoung says. “Taeyongie, sing it with me?”

“Wonderwall? Or the other one?”

“The other one.”

“God, fuck you two,” Jaehyun grouses. “Go.”

Taeyong brings Doyoung up the stage and hands him a mic. The intro of “Alone” plays, and Doyoung looks the calmest Taeyong’s seen in a long time; he brings the mic to his lips and starts to sing. Taeyong follows after the first chorus, voice breathy and unstable but able to carry the tune, and Doyoung encourages him, unable to take his gaze away.

( _Till now, I always got by on my own…_ )

 

 

_12:02 am_

They got a ninety-nine, which is good, though Taeyong feels the one-point deduction is from his shaky start. Whatever. Someone got a hundred on fucking “Bohemian Rhapsody”?

“Where’s Jaehyun?” Taeyong blurts out the second they go back to the table and see that it’s empty, all the bottles taken away.

“Holy shit?” Doyoung blinks, as if he can wish Jaehyun into apparition. “Did he run off with that older woman?”

“He’s not that stupid,” Taeyong brushes off. “How’s he gonna get home from here, huh? Make her drive him to school?”

Doyoung worries at his bottom lip, hands now shaking. “Do you think we did something?” he asks.

“What the fuck did we do?” Taeyong demands.

Doyoung shakes his head fervently. “I don’t know,” he admits. “Come on, we have to find him.” They leave the karaoke and are overwhelmed by the sudden quiet that’s filled the nearly empty street.

They decide they’ll look for Jaehyun on foot; he can’t have gone that far, even if he ran. “We need a direction,” Taeyong says.

“He’d want somewhere quiet,” Doyoung muses aloud. Taeyong snorts at that.

“You mean, he wants a place he can look cool while sulking?”

“Yeah, that.”

“We passed by a children’s park on the way here,” Taeyong offers. It must be locked at this time of night, but that’s never stopped Jaehyun. He’d probably smoke up while lying inside the tube slide, feet sticking out because he’s too tall for it at this age. The image is so clear in Taeyong’s mind that he can’t think of anywhere else he could go in this part of town that all of them barely know. “Yeah, he’s probably there.”

It’s about three blocks back to that children’s park. Jaehyun is nowhere around the perimeter, so Doyoung climbs the fences first then offers a hand to Taeyong, who’s stuck near the top, entirely unsure of how to swing his leg so that it catches on the other side instead of catapulting him to paralysis.

“I’ll hold on to you,” Doyoung offers.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Taeyong counters. He slowly drags his leg up the top of the fence and lowers his body, trying to catch his shoes in one of the holes in the fence. Once his feet catch, climbing down seems so much easier. Doyoung holds on to Taeyong’s hips anyway as Taeyong lowers himself. “Okay, now what?” he asks once his feet are steady on the ground.

They split up, Taeyong searching the perimeter counterclockwise while Doyoung goes the other way. They eventually find Jaehyun when they smell weed coming from the tube slide, so they squeeze themselves into the platform that leads into its mouth to find, indeed, Jaehyun lying down in it with his hands crossed over his chest.

“Jaehyunie,” Taeyong says, “let’s go home and sleep.”

“You guys go,” Jaehyun grumbles. “I like the air here.”

“It’s stuffy and… weed-y,” Doyoung notes.

“It’s the closest place to a beach around here.”

“In what universe?” Taeyong stands, exasperated. “Jaehyun, we’re going home.”

“ _No_ ,” Jaehyun stresses. “It’s not like you want me at home, right? You were gonna kick me out because you’re so in love with each other, right?”

“When the fuck did—”

“Taeyongie said so.”

“Taeyong did?” Doyoung curls a hand around Taeyong’s wrist then promptly digs his fingernails into his skin, making Taeyong recoil. “We all know Taeyong’s a dumb asshole, right?”

“Fine, whatever, Doyoungie. It’s not like you don’t do it, too.”

“Don’t do what?”

“Leave me out.”

Taeyong’s head is beginning to hurt from the pain and from feeling like the father to a petulant child. “Jaehyun…”

“Shut up, Taeyong. It’s really no big deal, okay? You guys have been looking out for each other since forever and I just—What? I don’t fucking know. I’m there to fuck shit up at home and ruin whatever perfect setting you guys made. I have to _force_ you guys to, like—God, you guys are _really_ messing with my vibe right now—”

“What do you want us to do?” Taeyong cuts in. “Really.”

“I don’t fucking _know_. I want to fuck someone, okay? I was gonna fucking jack off in this fucking slide until you showed up and shoved reality back in my face.”

“You look scandalised,” Taeyong whispers to Doyoung.

“Because I am,” Doyoung whispers back. “He’s gonna leave cum streaks for the kids?”

“You can fuck me,” Taeyong says to Jaehyun.

“What?”

“What?” Doyoung echoes.

“Will it make you feel less lonely, Jaehyunie?” Taeyong asks. He’s not sure if his own want is factored into the equation; his entire body is beginning to feel weighed down by everything that’s been happening, the exhaustion from days past also crawling under his skin like an itch. When he speaks again because Jaehyun’s faltering, his question comes out in a whisper. “Do you want that, Jaehyunie?”

“I don’t know.”

“I’m sorry we made you feel left out,” Taeyong says quietly. Now everything seemed to drop and stay still, except the three of them. “We really like having you at home. It feels complete.” If he’s being honest, he just wants to sleep. Sleep and wake up not having to worry about his exam.

Instead of saying anything, Jaehyun slides down until he lands, ass on the ground. “Come down here,” Jaehyun says. Taeyong follows and lands in front of Jaehyun, taking in what he can make out of him from the shitty streetlights. His eyes are really fucking red, and Taeyong wonders if he looks the same kind of haggard.

“Are you gonna fuck?” Doyoung asks from where he was left. “Really?”

“We’ll see,” Taeyong replies.

“You both look so hot all pale and in a cold sweat like that,” Jaehyun says with a laugh, shifting himself closer to Taeyong so he could cup his face. “Fuck, is this real?”

“What reality are you in?” Taeyong breathes out. He’s starting to palpitate, palms going clammy. Maybe Doyoung is already having another panic attack right above their heads, worried to hell about come stains. Or maybe he’s worried about them getting caught. Or both.

“Look, I know I’m here, right? But I want to be on the beach, so I feel like there’s sand in my asscrack.” Jaehyun laughs, and Taeyong can’t help laughing, too.

Maybe Taeyong can acknowledge then that he wouldn’t mind kissing Jaehyun, even with his red, wild eyes, the manic smile, hair that’s been run through by his fingers too much. But he doesn’t have much time to think about it because Jaehyun pulls him closer to kiss him.

Jaehyun kisses hungrily, like he wants to make sure Taeyong feels him wherever his fingers leave a trail along Taeyong’s body. He’d fist Taeyong’s hair, pull back with Taeyong’s bottom lip still caught between his teeth. His hand is warm when he slides it under Taeyong’s shirt, pinning him so that the slide was digging into Taeyong’s back.

Taeyong unwittingly lets out a moan, grinding into Jaehyun as Jaehyun nibbled on his bottom lip. When Taeyong opens his mouth just a touch more, Jaehyun’s tongue slips in and lightly touches the roof of Taeyong’s mouth, the back of his teeth. Taeyong wraps his arms around Jaehyun’s shoulders to kiss him harder, 

There’s so much weight from Jaehyun, pushing Taeyong down until he was lying on the ground with his legs spread open. It’s then that Doyoung decides to squawk.

“We’re gonna go to jail for this,” Doyoung says with a shaking voice.

Sighing, Jaehyun pulls away. “Fine, I’ll suck Taeyong’s dick in the car. Happy?”

“Not really.”

“I’ll suck your dick, too, Doyoungie. I’ve always wanted to.”

From where Taeyong was lying on the ground, chest heaving and the stars spinning in front of his eyes, he could only believe his luck and laugh.

 

 

_1:13 am_

Maybe the strangest part of the night has yet to come. Maybe it’s Jaehyun between Taeyong’s legs in the backseat of his car while Doyoung is in shotgun, humming Oasis. Maybe it’s Jaehyun sucking on his dick in the fastest way that’s guaranteed to make Taeyong come, leaving Jaehyun to lick come off his teeth and off the corners of his mouth.

“Holy fuck.”

Jaehyun grins. “I’m really fucking good.” He pulls away so Taeyong can pull his pants up then curls up into Taeyong’s space again. “Taeyongie,” he whines, “I want to go home.”

“Me, too,” Taeyong coos. “Doyoung, are you ready?”

“I might never be,” Doyoung says weakly from shotgun.

“Come here, Doyoungie,” Jaehyun says. “I’m not done.”

“What the fuck.”

Taeyong moves to the driver’s seat while Doyoung climbs into the back. He starts the car and gets it moving, hoping that the air freshener would overpower the smell of weed and spunk, or at the very least, add a tinge of pine freshness to the whole ordeal.

At the back, Doyoung and Jaehyun are starting off slow, in gentle kisses, in soft pets of Jaehyun’s hair that make him sigh from the attention. Taeyong puts on music, not loud enough to disrupt, but only audible enough to keep him company. It must be weird for Doyoung, too, since he could taste Taeyong on Jaehyun’s lips.

Maybe this is the strangest part of the night, ending up as a driver to his roommates who were making out like horny teenagers at the back while Toto’s “Africa” played. It’s the music that makes things unreal, Taeyong decides. It’s the music and the way the streetlights are set up—one per block like _that’s_ totally safe—and the way sleep is _so_ tempting right now.

Doyoung lets out a moan of his own, maybe at Jaehyun grazing over his nipple with a thumb. Whatever it is, it recalls Taeyong and divides his attention between the road and them, wondering why on earth he’d want to watch.

“I’m gonna…” Jaehyun’s voice trails off. They’re heading into the highway now, thank fuck. Then three—or was it four?—exits till they’re blissfully home, where their phones would ring the alarm for their eight am exams as the harbinger of death. “Doyoungie, stop shivering; I just took off your pants.”

Jesus.

A little bit later, the actual event starts, and Taeyong hates himself for paying attention like _ah, that’s it, the main course_. 

He glances into the rearview mirror and wants to die, maybe. If Taeyong really hates himself, he’d play Tears for Fears at a much louder volume. Fortunately for him, that’s what he does, increasing the volume until the slickness from Jaehyun’s mouth is drowned out.

At one point, Jaehyun lets go. “Your dick tastes like chicken nuggets,” he says.

 

 

_1:56 am_

Taeyong swerves, taking up all four lanes in the space of two seconds, and they get hunted down by a police car that doesn’t stop until Taeyong pulls over by the side. “Jesus fuck, Jaehyun,” Taeyong swears before the officer gets to their car, “can’t you keep your filthy ass mouth shut?”

“Did I make you hungry?” Jaehyun asks.

“You know what?” Taeyong snaps. “Shut _the fuck_ up.” The officer knocks on Taeyong’s door, and Taeyong puts on a smile as a guilty admission of _Yes, officer, my car smells like weed, and yes, officer, that’s my best friend and possibly the love of my life getting his dick sucked by our degenerate roommate, who I also love. I think_. 

“Do you know you just swerved?” the officer asks.

“Yes, officer. Sorry, officer. I thought I saw something and panicked,” Taeyong apologises quickly.

“You could’ve killed somebody.”

“Yes, officer. Sorry, officer.”

“I’m gonna have to see your licence.”

Shit. It’s in his wallet. At home. On the other side of the highway.

“No licence? And you know I can smell the weed in your car, right?”

“Good, right?” Jaehyun butts in. “It’s mine.”

“Are you high?” the cop asks.

“Officer, I’m not high,” Jaehyun tells the cop, with the blandest tone, as if the excitement of sucking dick had left him entirely. “I’m at the lowest point of my life, actually.”

“Forgive him, officer,” Taeyong says. “He’s a lit major.”

 

 

_3:30 am_

They’re in jail—Taeyong, for driving without a licence and for the weed in the car, and Jaehyun and Doyoung for what the cop calls public indecency but what Taeyong calls a misfortune because his windows aren’t so tinted and Jaehyun’s a dumbass for turning on the lights in the backseat because he couldn’t find the zipper of Doyoung’s pants.

They’re in jail with no money and no one to call. Taeyong finds it hard to breathe.

“This isn’t so bad,” Jaehyun says. “We’ll likely be let out in the morning.”

“Not so bad?” Doyoung repeats. “ _Not so bad_?”

“Shut up, Doyoungie,” Taeyong says in a low voice as he closes his eyes.

“Yeah, Doyoungie,” Jaehyun says, “shut up.”

“Shut up, Jaehyun,” Taeyong adds. He leans against the wall, takes a deep breath, and starts to shake, shoulders rattling against the tiles. A C-plus-close-to-a-B average is average. Good enough. Fairly good, if you ask the right people. With the right luck, he can still find himself in all the places he needs to be, but why does he feel like he’s trapped in a corner? Why the fuck does Jaehyun not give a shit? Why does Doyoung give so much of it? Maybe they’re all trapped in their own corners.

“I’m through this,” Taeyong can hear Doyoung say. He sounds so far away, even though he’s right beside him, holding his hands up as if in surrender. “I’m tired.”

“Through with what?” Jaehyun asks.

“I don’t know. I’m just tired.”

Taeyong wipes the tears off his face and lets out a shaky exhale, but it makes him sob. He curls into himself and keeps his face locked between his knees, letting the tears fall to the floor. Like this, he feels like Jaehyun and Doyoung are far away, and the only thing he can hear is his own sobbing. If they’re talking about him, he can’t fucking tell.

He needs to bring his head up to breathe but can’t do it. He doesn’t want to open his eyes and see Jaehyun and Doyoung, doesn’t want to end up thinking about how he wants Doyoung’s talent and Jaehyun’s apathy and how he’s in the middle of caring too much and not being good enough.

He stops crying, eventually, when he can’t even squeeze his eyes shut. It’s then that Doyoung coaxes him into an upright position and reaches for his hand.

“What happened?”

“Nothing.”

“You’re right, you know,” Doyoung says. “I’m gonna be okay.”

“I need to work harder,” Jaehyun says to the ceiling. “Fuck. I’m tired, too. Pretending nothing matters is fucking exhausting.”

“We’re all tired,” Doyoung sighs. “We have exams in four hours.”

“Fuck, right.”

“If they let us out by six, we can still make it,” Taeyong says quietly.

Jaehyun laughs. “You’re still gonna take it?”

“I’ve been thinking. It’s like… I know this shit, but I’ve been thinking I’m a dumbass this whole time because I study too much and don’t get anything out of it.”

“Taeyongie, it’s four am. What the hell?”

“I’m tired, too. Maybe this is as far as I can go.”

Doyoung squeezes his hand. Taeyong can only sit back and breathe deeply.

“Taeyongie,” Jaehyun pipes up, and after Taeyong doesn’t tell him to shut up, continues, “for what it’s worth? You’re amazing. No, really. You’ve been beating the shit out of yourself, but for what? So you can beat yourself up some more when you don’t get there?”

“Jaehyun—”

“Really, God, fuck. Lighten up. Doyoungie, too. Both of you. Easier said than done, I _know_ , but it helps. Really.”

Taeyong steals a glance at Doyoung, who’s been chewing on his bottom lip ever since Jaehyun began to rant. Doyoung catches the glance and looks back at Taeyong, looking as stuck as Taeyong feels.

“We’re probably sharing a nightmare,” Doyoung pipes up eventually. Taeyong laughs so hard that the supervising officer has to come see what the fuck they’re doing. It makes Jaehyun laugh, too.

“Yeah, ‘cause Jaehyun’s right for once,” Taeyong teases.

“Bitch.”

“I know.”

 

 

_10:01 am_

“Rise and shine, kiddos.” The officer rattles the door of their cell, making all three jolt awake. “Your car’s been towed; the address is on this card.”

They walk out of the cell in single file, like ducklings in their unsure footing. They get their shit back and some coins to call with, so they call someone who’s least likely to ask questions: Youngho.

“Perfect timing,” Youngho tells Taeyong over the phone. “Just finished my exam.”

“What? What time is it?”

“Like… ten-thirty? I’ll get there ASAP, don’t worry.”

“Thanks. I owe you.” Taeyong hangs up and turns around to face them. “It’s ten-thirty.”

“No shit?” Doyoung’s eyes go wide, and Jaehyun steps a little closer to Doyoung, about to reach out but stopping when Doyoung just laughs. “This was the worst night of my fucking life.”

**Author's Note:**

> if u wanna see more messes I have a [twitter](https://twitter.com/satanyong) account


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